We've Given New Names To Our Hopes And Our Pain
by Specificitydarling
Summary: In the end, he got that scholarship and never looked back. Or at least that was the plan. Future Finn Fic!


So I officially love writing emotional Finn fics he he. And I owe this to Patrick Park's album "Everyone's in everyone" - its wonderful and full of inspiration.

Disclaimer: I don't own glee or Patrick park... sad but true ha ha

* * *

Finn wrapped his coat and his arms tighter around himself, too lazy to bother with the zipper. He had forgotten how cold it got in Lima. He probably would have packed for LA had his mother not called him every day last week to remind him to bring his winter coat. It was the same one he had left Lima with, and had only worn it once since then: on a weekend holiday to Seattle.

But he was back in Lima now, and it was cold. Mind-numbingly cold, at least to him. If he was at home now, he would've been able to go to the grocery store in short sleeves.

His thoughts paused for a second. When did he start calling LA home? He wasn't sure. But as he was walking down the streets of Lima, looking around at buildings he should find familiar he knew that wherever home was, it wasn't here.

He stopped at the crossing, the pedestrian light was red, but flashing and 4 years ago he would've run for it. But now, he was in no rush.

He hadn't been back in four years. Four and a bit, actually. That's a long time.

As soon as he found out about the scholarship he packed his bags. 6 weeks later he headed to LA with his high school diploma still warm from the printer. This was what he had always waited for. And finally he got to escape. He got a job, saved up. Walked around LA a lot. Got used to the heat. And by the time college actually started he had saved up enough to fly his mom over for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

That was the deal; she would come to him. They spent nearly every holiday together, but it was always in LA.

He didn't miss it. Sure, he missed his mother. And sometimes he missed the snow. But he never missed Lima, or his life there.

This year, his mother begged him to come to her, no particular reason, just that she wanted a white Christmas and that he didn't have to stay too long if he didn't want to. So, as a college graduate, he told himself he had to suck it up and go. You don't have to see anyone if you don't want to.

But he made her promise she wouldn't tell anyone he was coming. Because Lima was like that; you tell your hairdresser and next thing you know the Mayor is coming to welcome you at the airport.

Being back was strange, everything was just not familiar to feel strange and awkward. He felt like a tourist without a camera. And he felt like it was obvious to everyone he didn't belong there.

Standing at the light, he looked around. It was one of Lima's main streets. He had stood there a hundred times before. Yet, when he looked across the street, he didn't recognise the shops or the buildings. Not that they had changed, it was just that he had.

Thinking about it, he didn't want to go home just yet. His mom was preparing his favourite meatloaf for his last meal there and they'd probably spend the evening looking at photographs from their one holiday in Hawaii before he had to pack and catch his flight home early in the morning.

He didn't like spending too much time in his old room, it reminded him too much of what he left behind. It was covered in posters of musicians he didn't listen to and movies he didn't watch anymore.

He'd take the long way home, he decided. And shifted his feet to turn around and go in the other direction.

"Oooff!" His body slammed right into someone else. And he felt a can of beans fall out of their shopping bag and onto his foot. Followed by what was probably a bag of rice.

She, it was a she, he saw, hidden behind her long blonde hair, bent down straight away to pick up her stuff. He followed her quickly, their knees bumping into each other as they grabbed the runaway groceries.

"Oh god, I'm so sor-" He stopped when she moved her head to look at him and return the apology.

"No, no, it's fi- Finn?!"

Her voice was exactly the same. She looked a little different, older of course. Not old, just wiser. And more tired. She wasn't wearing any make up, and he wasn't sure he'd ever seen her like that. Her hair was still blonde, just longer and not blow-dried. She was wearing jeans and a think jacket she would have never been caught dead in four years ago. He doesn't know whether he's more disturbed to see her like this. Or that he remembers so clearly how she was four years ago.

But her voice, her voice was exactly the same. The way she said his name, dragging on the n's, as if she wanted to keep it on her tongue.

He wants to say all this. He wants to make a list of everything he sees in front of him. He wants to runaway and pretends he didn't hear her. Or recognise her. Or something. But instead he nods.

After the confirmation, she grins widely, "Oh my gosh, it's really you!!" She stands up suddenly and he follows her.

"Uh, yeah..." he can't quite say her name yet, "How've you been?"

"Pretty good actually, but really busy." She says a knowing gleam in her eye as she tilts her head to her right. His gaze follows and he see her hand attached to small girl. A small blonde girl bundled up in what seems like 3 jackets and a dozen scarves.

He can't believe he forgot.

He didn't forget, but he didn't remember and he has no idea what that even means.

He stared at her, "Ohhhh."

She placed her arms around the little girls shoulder, nudging her forward. "Melody, this is Finn. He was a friend of Mommy's. Say hello." She said it peacefully, her voice gentle and calm. But they echoe in his head as if she screamed them into his ear.

Taking a moment, he crouched down again to be at eye level with the girl.

"Hi." She said shyly.

He smiled; she had her mother's eyes, "Hello Melody. That's a nice name."

Melody smiled a little, still having to look up at him, "You're really tall, Mr. Finn."

He laughed, and heard a laugh come from above as well. He hadn't heard it in years. It too, sounded the same. If a little more genuine now.

"Yeah, well you're really pretty. And that's better."

The shy smile grew into a giant grin. And he stood back up again to meet her eye.

"Finn.... It's so good to see you again. I've- you haven't visited in so long."

He's lost as to what to respond. There was no question asked, but also a million implied. He realized he's been given the ball. He has to choose where to take it. "Would like to get some coffee, if you're free."

"I'd love too." She said, nodding her head so her hair sweeps along her shoulders.

* * *

They chose a place down the road. Or rather, she chose, because the only place remembers is the diner and he doubts that would be appropriate. It was small, relatively quiet, apart from the radio humming the background.

They sit down at a table in the corner. She turned to Melody, who is grinning excitedly over the prospect of a hot chocolate. "Melody honey, you wanna go get some crayons from that box by the counter?"

They both gaze after her as she skips across the room. Finally he drags his eyes back, meeting her blue ones.

"You kept her."

It was a statement. Not that he was particularly surprised. After she had the baby, she never returned to school that year. And as soon as he graduated he left for LA. So really, he never knew what happened. And it wasn't like he asked.

She nodded, smiling slightly. He was glad that she didn't regret it. "Yeah.... I just – I mean, look at her."

He nodded, "She's really something. She looks like you."

"I.... I finished the year online, I finished school, I mean." She explained, but it comes out in way of a justification. Like she needed to prove herself to him.

"I know."

Because, like he said, Lima was that kind of place.

Melody returned, seating her side beside her mother with a stack of paper and a handful of crayons. Saying nothing she just giggled and started drawing her masterpieces.

She continued, "I'm studying now. Part-time, of course. But it's nice. Between her and work to know that I'm doing something for myself."

"That's really great, Quinn. I'm happy for you." That's the first time he's said her name and how easily it rolled off his tongue surprises both of them.

"What about you, Mr. Big shot LA man." She grinned and he blushed.

"What about me?"

"I don't know anything about you. Tell me everything!" she laughed, but they both knew there was more truth in her words than they'd like to admit

"Only if you do the same." He replied, and was promptly interrupted by the waitress coming to take their order.

After ordering, they sat in silence for a minute, he tapped his fingers against his glass and she reached out to smooth down Melody's hair.

"So where is everyone?" He finally asked, and she looked up suddenly, a sort of half-smile on her face. As if talking about them made her both happy and sad.

"They got out." She said, and though it was said it was nearly impossible to get out of Lima, he wasn't surprised. "Well, most of them. Santana is in Miami now, she models... Kurt is in Europe at the moment, I think. Chang is in law school. And Matt's in Washington."

He waited as she paused to think, either to remember who was left or to think of the words.

"Artie went to California actually, got into some special computer programme thing. And, uh, Tina went with him."

He smiled at this. Those two were one of a kind, and it was obvious to everyone they didn't function that well when they were apart.

"Rachel went to New York..." she said, not elaborating, and not really needing to. That, out of everything, was definitely not a surprise. Besides, he'd googled her once, and she was doing well. Broadway and all that.

"Brittany's still here though. She writes children's books."

His eyes widened, "Seriously?" he asked, laughing.

"Really." She nodded, laughing as well. "They're good, actually. Mel has all of them. And Mercedes opened her own store here as well; it's just down the road actually."

He nodded, taking a sip of his water. "And..."

He hasn't said the name in four years. He wasn't going to start now.

"I have no idea where Puck is." she said and he looked up from his glass. The name sounded so blunt, so harsh. But it was the news that surprised him more.

"What?"

This time it was she who looked away, glancing over at her daughter who was obliviously colouring in her abstract penguin.

"He, uh, stuck around for the first year. Then left. I'm not sure what he's doing, but I've heard he comes back to see his family sometimes." Her voice is slightly lowered, as if this will keep it a secret.

"His family." He repeated, disbelievingly. He glanced at Melody, who is so focused on her drawing it would be impossible to distract her.

"His sister and mother."

"I know. But still..." he trailed off. He didn't know what he was expecting. But after everything that happened, it wasn't this.

She shook her head, refusing sympathy, "I told him I wanted to do it by myself, and I did. I do. You can't blame him."

That was it. He was caught red-handed. Because it was never about her. Yes he was angry at her. Yes they broke up. But it was him he hated. Irrationally even.

"He still shouldn't have done that." He mumbled, looking at the table.

She shrugged, "I don't know."

"It's hi-" he started.

"No." She cut him off, looking at him sharply, "She's mine."

Their eyes locked for a moment, not even budging when the waitress dropped off their drinks. His eyes then flew down to study Melody, even at that age she was a perfect replica of her mother. He couldn't spot a single trait of her father's and he hoped it stayed that way. For Quinn's sake at least.

"Yeah," he nodded, looking back at her, "She's yours."

She said nothing, adding sugar to her coffee and he thought back to when half a protein shake was too much for her.

"Seriously though, what have you been up to?" she said, suddenly breaking the silence again. He decided she didn't like it. She's rather have awkward conversation than sit through nothing.

"Uh..." he though, wondering what of the last 4 years he should put into words. It wasn't like nothing happened. He'd had jobs, girlfriends. He'd made friends, graduated college.

"I, uh, just started a job with this marketing firm, ads and things like that. It's kinda like being an intern, but I get paid, which is awesome." He said.

She nodded, "that is awesome." And smiled, reminding him, that he wasn't so different from when he left.

"And, I have my own place now. Small, but it's LA, you take what you can get, you know."

Of course she didn't know. If they were both being honest, she probably wouldn't ever know. But she just smiled and nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

"So, any future Mrs Hudsons?" she asked a smirk playing on her lips.

"Noo...." he laughed, shaking his head. "No, not yet anyway."

There had been girlfriends, of course. One in particular that had lasted all through junior year and even went into senior. They met each other's parents, went on holiday together. But no one that made him truly think of forever.

"What about you?" he asked, then realizing how suggestive it sounded, "Oh, I mean -"

"Not right now," she answered not even flinching, although the continuous smirk gave away that she heard it too. "I'm a bit taken at the moment, with everything. But one day, it might be nice."

From there they talk about less important things, like how Melody loves going to the Zoo, and how everyone is hoping the new transport system being planned won't be a huge waste of money.

Eventually he realized that they'd been sitting there for two hours, and that his mother will be wondering where he'd gone. And it was like he was 17 again.

He paid the bill, he insisted, ignoring her protests. They stand up together, and walk outside, back into the numbing cold.

"This was really wonderful. I'm so glad I bumped into you." She smiled widely.

"Yeah, so am I." He left it at that. Because he was never good at this part of things.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow. Tomorrow morning."

A flash of disappointment crossed her face, "Oh. That's... soon. I'm sorry you can't stay longer."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, not really knowing what else to do. "Uh, maybe I'll see you next time I'm in town?" He wasn't even sure where that came from, it wasn't like he was planning a trip back.

"That'd be nice. I'd like that." She said and then urged Melody to say goodbye as well.

They were going in opposite directions, and before they part he gave her an awkward one-armed hugged, the other hand still stuffed in his pocket. She still only came up to his chest, and her hair tickled his chin.

* * *

The next morning he was packed on time and ready to go even before his mother made breakfast. He had to remind her not to cry, because he'll see each other soon. He made it a point not to mention who would be visiting who.

After she opened the door, his mom turned back towards the hallway, "Honey your taxi is here."

He made a sort of affirmative grumble from the kitchen, and drained his cup of coffee. Before he made his way toward the front door where both his mother and his luggage were waiting.

His mother held a folded piece of paper in her hand and held it out to him when he came closer.

"This was left for you on the door step."

She had a smile on her face, her eyes crinkling a little, but he knew she hadn't read it.

It was 7 am; someone must have had to get up very early to leave that. Confused he opened it.

He recognised the handwriting immediately:

_Dear Finn,_

_It was lovely to see you again. I've missed you. I know we can't be old friends anymore. But maybe we could be new ones?_

_These are my numbers, if you'd like to call. Or at least, let me know when you're coming home again._

_Q_

He released a deep breath he didn't even know he was holding and looked back to hi mother.

"Who was it?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged, slipping the note into his pocket, "Oh, just an old friend."

"That's nice."

And he nodded, it was nice. He gave his mother a tight hug, grabbed his bag and got into the taxi.

Sighing, he had no idea what he wanted. He thought he never wanted to come back. He thought he wanted LA to be home. He thought he was over it.

But he pulled the note out of his pocket anyway and saved her number into his phone.

Maybe it was okay to have two homes.


End file.
